


Heatsink

by Peacekeeper_Revolvcr



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Smut, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 00:19:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10797801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peacekeeper_Revolvcr/pseuds/Peacekeeper_Revolvcr
Summary: Old habits are hard to break, but feelings are even harder.





	Heatsink

**Author's Note:**

> heat sink  
> noun  
> noun: heat-sink  
>  a device or substance for absorbing excessive or unwanted heat.

Tension dawned in a throbbing pain against his temple, the digital clicks of the monitor’s clock ticking away the seconds just loud enough to capture his attention and wrestle it away from work. The Commander had been working the reports all night; writing delegations, reading ledgers, and rewriting other delegations to fit the proceeds of the world’s peacekeeping taskforce. The headache that bears a tremendous weight on his shoulders, and again leaves him sleepless in the early hours of the morning. Jack settles back into the depths of his chair, muscles relieved from the strain he’d unintentionally been under the past few hours and looked to the array of displays at his deskside. News bulletins of current events around the world ( thankfully on mute ), a few security feeds of empty hallways and other flickers of filler information. 

He rubbed his fingers across the strain of his eyes, exhaustion flooding the small blots of darkness, urging him to submit before they open across the scattered mess of his desk. Papers, notebooks, rifle magazines all neatly cascaded in piles around his terminal. Everything in his body ached for sleep, _give in Morrison, let it go for tonight._ But there was work to be done. Things to amend, policies to review, regimens to—  
Sinking back into the chair, he felt his mind giveaway to the stirring thought tucked deep in the back of his head. It made him swallow, the small itch he hadn’t want to come to rely on but now that it surfaced again the thought took hold of everything and left him conflicted. _Him_. The stubborn kid he’d been conspiring with for a few months now. The Blackwatch brat that had gotten on his nerves more often than he’d care to recall but he couldn’t be completely cross with. _Jesse_ had been more than accommodating to his circumstances and to the perverted game they had gotten themselves trapped in as the years served on. Their unwelcome alliance of frustrated fucks, lust driven urges to satisfy their distaste for things—each other—that had become more routine as the young man flourished. Although things had recently fell stagnant as of late; with more pressure the U.N. had been putting on Jack’s shoulders, the further apart their reaches stretched and even then, alleviating the stress wasn’t always enough. 

But there grew a longing in his chest, something that missed the lovesick remedy.   
Jack had been so wrapped up in politics, he hardly had the chance to spare McCree a thought, and now, his mind was full of them. The snide attitude with witty charm, the musk of sweat and gunmetal he could always smell on his hands. Long twists of dark hair swept across his jaw, always pushed from his face or tied back in a small knot. The pinch of teeth across his lips while brows knitted together under the strain of sex, those wanton peals of pleased baritone that made Jack’s lips wet; fingers squeeze across the chair arm while his mind divulged the arch in Jesse’s back, fingers fisted in his hair.  His named spilled across his tongue in the filth diluted way he liked.   
The exhaustion had nearly swept from his memory, escaping to the wiles of digits plunged between the soft plush of lips, a hand squeezed along the bridge of Jesse’s hip driving him forward against the snap of his own; unsteadily rocking them in a harsh and sweaty fuck across his desk he’d lost himself completely undone in time and time again. 

Jack inhaled before letting escape a fitful breath, cheeks dusted pink as he realigned himself back to the confines of his empty desk and felt the arousal pool within his hips.   
“Shit.” 

* * *

 

Pride didn’t want to admit that he was wandering the halls after the standard curfew, narrowing down his search for the agent within the headquarters. He’d already made the embarrassing walk to McCree’s quarters; reinforcing himself as he knocked on the door only to find them empty and leaving a small shatter in his chest. He hadn’t thought to check any of the feeds for Jesse’s last location, and he wasn’t sure how far he was willing to venture across the Watchpoint to the cliffside of their usual meeting spot.   
“Athena,” Jack huffed into the air, stirring a glowing display along the walls beside him; the small idle animation pulsing alive and at his beckon. “What’s McCree’s last location?”   
[ “ **AGENT MCCREE SIGNED INTO THE WESTERN RANGE AT 02:21 HOURS, COMMANDER, HE’S NOT REPORTED TO HAVE SIGNED OUT SINCE MY LAST CHECK ON HIM.** ” ]

He should have suspected, Jesse’s usual habit of escaping into the range at odd hours being the last place anyone ever really looked. Knowing that he still kept firm to the lucrative idea of whatever pursuits he was after, having a solid find on him was assuring. There was no backing out of it, no denying that itch wasn’t still there—taunting him in the back of his mind that feelings had somehow apparated and the frustration wasn’t piling up the way it had. He could feel the knots in his shoulders, how tense they strained in his walk only to loosen slightly when the pace of his pulse began to rise over his anticipation.   
The embarrassing admission that he was _eager_ for this.   

To see him again. 

 

The walk to the range was hardly a long one, enough for him to gather himself, fingers twisted around the handle and wait for the tepid heat in his cheeks to subside as he pulled open the door and stole away inside the range. The lights reflected bright against the orange paint of the floor, crackling amongst the cement, long faded by the years of use. The sounds of gunshots echoed in loud cracks against walls before their clamour dwindled in small pops within Jack’s ears. He could smell the faint ash of cloves and smoke, a grit in his jaw from slight irritation the further along the steps he walked. He kept to the shadows of the catwalk, walking in between shafts of light before he found Jesse taking aim in a lane; hand poised in front of him and released another swift shot.   
Jack leaned into the grooves of his arms, shifting his weight along the railing and noticed that Jesse was aware of him; head slightly peaked to the sudden presence and narrow eyes trained on him that tug a knot in his throat a moment before he looked away, continuing to his next series of shots. For a while Jack watched silently above the range, observing the gunslinger in his natural cadence; the fierce recoil that snapped from the revolver’s buck, fingers jamming in new rounds after they were spent. The damn cigar hanging loose from his lips, that he breathed ash from his nose, wafting drafts of silver coils in a dreamy haze amongst the lights.   
It had been a while since he was able to really watch McCree’s performance. 

Gauging his progression, hoping that Gabriel was utilizing their coveted asset in every way possible, word of mouth was the only real way he had heard of his exploits. He was a maverick on the field, vicious in a fistfight and even deadlier at a distance. Even Jack had to be amazed at the impressions of a _kid_ ,  sterling age of twenty five and a multi-million dollar bounty from a marksmanship that rivaled senior officers he experienced in military and special forces combined. His eyes watched the focus taken in every aim, the way his arms kept still, trained under scrutinizing years of muscle memory, finger curled around the trigger before several rapid fire shots clapped along the back walls. All successful hits, he was sure.   
They even drifted to the slant in his back, rigid in posture though the curve held the Commander’s attention below the thin cotton shirt hanging loose around his hips, a small peak of tanned skin just shy from tip of his pelvis. Fatigues strewn up by a tight wound belt ( proper this time ) and fitted nice over the crook of his ass. 

  
“Y’know—if you’re gonna stand there an’ look at my ass…’least be less _obvious_ ‘bout it.”  
Jack caught Jesse staring back, fingers paused at the chamber of his gun before he shook his head and pulled the cigar from his lips between slender fingers. There was a scoff that escaped, Jack rolling his eyes with a dismissive smile, as if he weren’t blatantly staring and push from the rail around the catwalk to the metal steps. 

“Please, don’t flatter yourself,” Jack chuckled harmlessly, bounding down the stairs as he walked in relative stride behind Jesse; sweat and scented smoke assault his senses with that warm familiarity of him. He crossed his arms behind him, bemusement on his face. “I wasn’t staring. I was  _ observing. _ ”    
The kid looked none convinced, pushing the last of a glowing bullet casing into the chamber before he snapped the gun shut. 

“Oh  _ really _ ? What were you observin’ then, Commander?”

“Your sloppy aim.” 

Jesse snorted, rolling his eyes, unamused by the impression and turned back toward his lane. “Piss off, Jack.” It was more tame than usual, hardly much bite if he were serious. Perhaps tired. 

“What are you doing here, McCree?”  
“Why d’you care?”

“Considering you’re past curfew—”   
Jesse cocked his head toward him, more irritated this time and pushed the gun into the belt of his pants. 

“Look, if you’re gonna give me shit for workin’ then you can just—”  
“Jesse, I’m not here to argue.”  
“Just to give me shit.”

“ _Relax_ , kid, I’m off duty…”  
Jesse paused, looking Jack over before shoving past him, and leaning toward the terminal at the end of his lane gate; setting the cigar at the edge while his eyes focused on the monitor and let his fingers stumble across the keys. “What d’you want then?”   
“I—” The knot returned in Jack’s throat, preventing any forethought to answer him directly; the heat rising to his cheeks as he looked away under Jesse’s critical gaze. “Ah, hm…”  
“Jack?”

He was caught under the sharp eyes, looking impatiently for their answer before he grew bored of the diversion and settled back for the terminal screen; finger tapping through keys and skimming the monitor. Jack felt the awkward rising in his chest, looking around for something to press the start of conversation and still felt resistance. “I just wanted to talk.”

“ ‘Bout?” 

Jack huffed, fingers working at the tight spot across his shoulder.  

“How’ve you been?”

He watched the blank faced confusion twist Jesse’s brows, before the look was directed at him; the small hint of distaste for the question as brown eyes sketched his face for such a reason to ask. If anything he looked tired, if not more so annoyed but it didn’t prompt small talk. They didn’t do small talk. 

“Uh, _fine_ , I guess. Look, what’s this ‘bout anyway, somethin’ up or—”  
“No, I was just—”

“Jay…” Jesse’s face grew serious, peeks of worry stitched between his brow, a look wondering if he should be worried. 

“It’s nothing serious. I was just—I wanted to talk to you—”   
Jesse studied the fumbling attempts before his eyes caught Jack’s hesitation in his hands; fingers rubbing at his shoulder, and felt all the muscles slowly release their caution and a small, smirk rise across his lips. “... _ Oh _ .” A laugh followed, eyes gleam es they narrowed Jack down and left him feeling cornered against the range. “You wanted to  _ talk _ ?” He picked up the cigar, smoke tracing small sigils in the air before he pressed the end to his lips; inhaling the strong, sweet smell of scented ash and pushed forward from the terminal. 

Jack watched as Jesse sauntered forward, feeling the resolve slightly cower at being measured and stood firm to secure himself against the sudden haughty attitude. 

“You know damn well, we  _ don’t _ talk.”

He didn’t want to admit that he knew that, hoping there wasn’t a chance that Jesse could figure him out easily; see that the desperate crawling he’d done to convince him of a crutch he wanted to fulfill. Jesse blew the smoke from the corner of his lips, the last of its wisps curl across the flesh of his lip and demanded Jack’s attention. He swallowed, feeling another chip at the resolve. 

Jesse pushed his fingers through his hair, ignoring the awkward silence hanging in the midst between them. “Jay, I thought you an’ I ran our course. U.N. started pickin’ leashes for their favourites, an’ they ain’t wanna add  _ wolves _ to th’mix. You know that. _ I _ know that.” 

“This isn’t about them—”  
Jesse stepped forward, smoke following him as he went, flicking ash across his boot.   
“Then what’re you howlin’ at me for, huh?” Jack felt the clutch around his throat, the way McCree’s eyes carved up and down his chest, smelling him like a bitch in heat; too smart to see through clever conduct that he was concerned about talking. He didn’t want to talk. But pride stubbornly didn’t want to anchor aweigh at any control Jesse knew he might’ve taken from him. And steadily all of it was fleeting.   
When words failed him again, Jesse smiled, flattered by the attempt and simply flicked the cigar to the floor and let his boot snuff the embers. 

He pulled the gun from his belt, smiling at the chamber as he did. “Somethin’ tells me you ain’t here t’talk.” 

Jack smiles, honouring the surrender to his reluctance and watched as Jesse set up for another aim. His arm was bent far too low than it should have been, shoulder too high. Quietly nitpicking, he finally urged himself forward after him, fingers lifting the crook of his arm slightly, hands adjusting Jesse’s posture before he felt the resolve pull at the lead that held him back. The lingering scent of smoke; an earthy smell of spice and dirt that hung to Jesse and made him miss the months they had gone without. Pretending each other didn’t exist for the sake of appearances. To keep the incumbent at bay. But this he wants, so badly again, his palm adjusting Jesse’s shoulder; leaning to pull his hand level with his foot. 

Then the hand slips down between his shoulder blades as his thumb pressed firm with a twist along his spine, twisting to squeeze the curve of his hip and draw Jesse against him. He felt no refusal, Jesse’s arms still poised at the ready; waiting for further instruction. Jack’s fingers pried beneath the hem of his shirt, touching hot skin to his palm while his thumb hooked beneath the belt. The other hand slowly brushed across the front of his chest, lips ghosting along the bend of his shoulder toward his neck; a hitch in Jesse’s breath telling him he faltered before the slow withdrawal of his head to the side.   
Jack’s mouth seized the skin, firm planted presses mold across the muscle, hungry in their climb along the cords of his neck—a sigh telling him he’d convinced him, pressing the edge of his tongue smooth into the crook in his jaw. 

**BANG!**

The revolver snapped back in Jesse’s hand, the smoking gun steady in a tight wrist and nearly startled Jack away from his throat. He looked to the end of the lane on the target board, the piercing hole right through the center of the forehead; shot clean with ease. The gunslinger chuckled, peeking at Jack with a flush grin. 

“Are you trying to impress me?” 

Jesse rumbled a small laugh in his throat, head knocking back against his shoulder as he dropped his arms and fell away against him. “If I’ve learned anythin’, ‘s that you’re  _ easily _ impressed.” The gun slipped from his fingers, clattering uselessly to the floor as he Jack tore Jesse into his arms, lips hungrily crash in a fit of heat. Jesse falls in kind, hands tearing down the front of Jack’s shirt as his teeth pinch into his lip, biting hard enough to sting. Jack’s eyes flutter once he’s caught, hands squeezing Jesse’s hips against him before he pulls from pinch of teeth and sinks his own across the flesh of his neck; bites and licks flush against the salt bitter of his skin, mixing with the sharp sting of sweet smelling smoke. 

He pushes Jesse toward the wall, Jesse twisting away and pressing his ass sharp against Jack’s hips, curving himself into the bent angle of his torso. Jack felt himself near buckle against the press of his hips, a vice grip dragging his ass down the front of his waist enough to elicit a moan into his ear. Jack froze, cheeks flush with sudden apprehension, holding Jesse still against him as he breathed into his shoulder. 

“Athena...disable security clearance level three.”  

[ “ **AFFIRMATIVE, COMMANDER.** ” ]

Jesse rose a brow, looking across his shoulder. “I thought you liked an audience.” Jack chuckled a husky breath into his ear, pushing his hand down the front of Jesse’s pants beneath the belt and grinned. 

“Maybe I like my privacy, from time to time.” 

They fell against the flat surface of concrete wall, harsh and cold against Jesse’s skin as he gave away to the hefty bend of Jack’s chest. Fingers push between his legs and palm down his hips by the long extension of Jack’s fingers, his breath heavy against his ear. A hand wrapped around Jesse’s chin, holding him strictly in place while fingers massage across his cock; careful brushes down the length of hot skin until they pulled away and out from his pants. 

“Keep still.” Jack ordered firmly, tongue running slow against the shell of his ear as he fumbled with the buckle, and unfastened his fatigues from around his hips. From prior arrangements, they had rules about such things. As spontaneous as they seemed to be, command still applied. The rules of intimacy being non-existent, sex being casually left to them as a means to blow off steam; to angrily grope and growl at each other until release before they’d part in silent awkwardness, unsure of where their boundaries lie beyond commander and agent. 

For the first time, Jack had broken the rules. The first being kissing, tearing McCree from his palms as he twisted him onto his back with the flat of his palm pressed into the middle of his throat, lips viciously hungry in claim; a moan pulled from his chest as he encompasses him in a feverish heat, mouthing against his jaw, his neck. Jesse’s hands braced against Jack’s arms, succumbing the control of the mouth along his shoulder, blossoms of pink flourish the span of tan skin under the small spray of freckles. There was confusion mixed by the pleasure, distracted by the heat that crept along his collar, Jesse watched through lidded eyes the hand pin him back while the other pet across his hips. Thumbs rubbed in firm circles across the peak of his hip bone, carving down the slant in his waist until he grasped his cock fully in his palm. 

The boy sighed, hesitant eyes watching the commander stamp marks across his collar before pumping his hand slack against his waist, teeth crush into his lip as the buckle of pleasure shocks through his legs, waist and chest sending shivers up his spine. Jack met with shy eyes, the small pang of guilt striking him knowing that he’d been greedy to kiss him—harsh, and driven—but he was hardly able to will himself back this time. He reaches to grasp him by the nape, fingers fisted into the dark length of hair as he kisses him again, tongue swept careful to taste the lingering sting of ash and cloves, a spice that made the commander eager for more. His hand worked along his cock in careful rhythm, feeling the heat of his waist radiate against his legs with quick jolts that made Jesse jerk from the wall and lean close into his chest. 

“F-Fuck, Jay…” He sighed, breaths spent before the yank of his hair drew him backward and left a whimper in his throat. Jack held him in position, watching the desperate turn of Jesse’s arousal suddenly surface as his hips jerked against the strides of the working palm; hands desperately tether to the sleeves of Jack’s shirt and small peals of sound slip behind his lips. His brows creased in a forlorn arch, watching him helplessly under the lids of his eyes beginning to flutter, the slow slick of Jack’s hand summoning another shock that made him jerk from the hold of his head. Jaw tensed, opened and ached. 

“Please.” Jesse whispered, fingers curled into the sleeve ends; legs shaking more before a violent shock seized him and enticed a moan to echo across the range. He even pulled against the hand in his hair, hiding the cranberry colour spread hot across his cheeks and peaks of his ears; struggling to keep himself in control the harder Jack worked the wet dab along his cock. 

And even Jack couldn’t stay completely align. 

He studied every move, the twitch in his hips that bucked against the stride of his hand; the easiest way to have Jesse’s eyes roll back and obey the grasp to his hair before quiet whimpers urged for more. Jack pulled back his fist of hair and dragged his tongue along the span of McCree’s neck where bright, watercolour carmine stained the muscle. Teeth grazed along the skin, a sharp gasp tore between Jesse’s teeth and another buck made him groan, stumbling under the shaking rattle of his knees.  
Jack leads him by the throat, careful not to squeeze against the bruises he littered across Jesse’s skin, watching him follow in humble obedience and pushed aside the discards of empty muntions boxes. He hoisted Jesse onto the smooth sheet metal of the ammo cache,  suddenly seized by grasping hands and hungry lips that pulled him fiercely into his chest. Jack twisted his hands along Jesse’s hips, curving up the hem of his shirt to the tack heat of muscles beneath his fingertips, along the stripes of scars that marked every tally of his fights. 

Jack grasps at his knees, pulling himself between Jesse’s legs as fingers carved down the front of his chest by the blunt ends of his nails, yanking the shirt tucked beneath his belt free above his waist. Jesse groaned a please sound across Jack’s lips, nails scraping along the skin. Tugging at the belt impatiently, Jesse huffed between another harsh kiss; fumbling to undo the clasp before plunging his hands within them. Jack grunted at the hands palming around his hips, eyes strained by fingers curled along his waistband and felt himself losing to McCree’s touch. 

“Had feelin’ you ain’t show up to talk, Jay,” He whispered across Jack’s jaw, hooking his heel at the back of his thigh keeping him pinned between the crate and his chest. His mouth formed along the span of Jack’s neck, hands pushed deeper between his legs and made Jack grip tight along the tops of his thighs, bracing himself from rutting eagerly into his palm. 

“You’re teasin’ me, Jes.” Jack huffed, earning a wicked smile from the gunslinger, grabbing the commander firm across the jaw.   
“What? Don’t like bein’ toyed with, novio?” His tongue swept slow along the front of his lips, a hot coil simmered down the length of Jack’s spine and nearly made his knees buckle. Soft, cornflower eyes were glazed by lust of the man that rendered him breathless. The control he thought he held was gone, an eager stirring in his chest willing to let go for just another taste of his lips again.   
“Come on Jay,” Jesse crooned,  dark amber eyes left a burning glow that made Jack parched by their sting. Tugging Jesse’s hips forward, he pushed apart his legs while their lips tangled in a heated exchange. Jack yankeded down the front of his pants with Jesse’s hands pulling at the rest, feverish gropes palmed against each other before Jesse lie flat into stinging cold surface of the metal crate and yanked Jack over top of him. His fingers tangled through the mess of dark hair, grinding against the front of Jesse’s lap as his  breath hitched between each kiss. Every breath grew anxious, small cracks in his voice that beckoned for more friction, more of Jack’s touch. Of anything. 

Jesse moved to twist onto his stomach, a knee pressed into the crate before Jack yanked him onto his back and growled, leaving Jesse bewildered underneath him. 

“W—what-”  
“Hush.” Jack ordered, fingers splayed on his chest. “Let me watch.”

The purr of his voice sent colour to Jesse’s cheeks, a meek nod agreed as he lowered on his elbows and sank back into his shoulders. 

Jack pushed between his hips, hot breaths ghost into the crook of Jesse’s neck while the pleased crack of his moan escapes to the ceiling by the fall of his head. Fingers grasped tight to Jack’s shoulder, the tight clench of muscle was enough to make his hips sputter and squeeze ahold of Jesse’s waist to force him still. Blue eyes watch the pinch of teeth to the dusky lips, waist heaving under the force of found breath as he readjusts to the tension that made his cock throb between their hips. 

The slow friction sparked a chill down Jack’s legs, palms firm across the thick of Jesse’s thighs to hold him into the crate before his hips rolled between his legs in a smooth stride. Jesse’s hands tightened to fists, white at the knuckles as he rocked against every press of Jack’s hips, muscles spasming to the plunge of his cock between his legs. Jesse pressed his cheeks into his shoulder, hiding the shy flush of his skin and watched bashfully the hungry glare of the Commander eye’s watching him. 

A harsh snap smacked against Jesse’s hips enough to make him yelp, seizing ahold of the smooth edges of the crate to brace himself upright. A smothering heat swept over him like a wave, collapsing back against the crate as Jack’s greed began to take hold with vicious fucks into his hips. Twisting by small jolts, pleasing flickers shock through Jesse’s veins while the electric surge made him stiffen into the wild jerk of Jack’s hips. 

Entranced by his own need, Jack watched the rapid crumble of Jesse’s chest dissolve against the crate until he was pressed flat onto his back, hands gripped along the edge as he was fucked against the sleek polish; harsh rubbing of his skin streaking from the sheer of sweat and heat. He pulled every sound from him he could, desperate groans that whispered into to raspy croaks. Jack watched the fast twitch of muscles spasm under every bend of his hips, Jesse twist from crate with messy frays of brown crossed over his eyes. 

He looked beautiful, succumbed to mess of pleasure that made him vocal—desperate—the echoes of his voice clattering along the range and felt like music at his whim. He never wanted him in such a way, knowing that he could make Jesse call his name and so badly please him. Seeing the raw flesh of his lips under the harsh abuse of his teeth made him shiver, fingers petting over Jesse’s thigh and slowly brushed along the length of his cock, scaring him from the distracted clouds of his mind and onto his back. 

Jesse was a mess of whimpers and fidgeting fingers, the press of Jack’s palm along his cock made him gasp and the heat grow more immense. He gave weak thrusts into his hand, soft begging asked for more as he pulled Jack’s shirt and yanked him forward; the jitters of his fingers steady along the broad of his chest while Jack snaps into him again. The small of his back arched from the crate, panting Jack’s name between each kiss as he felt the cord in his hips draw tighter. 

Jack’s hand pumped faster against him, moving in tandem with the stride of his hips under the pace was unbearable. The cord snapped, his body spasming in violent shocks against Jack’s chest; a mangled cry buried into his shirt. Under his hands, and through the ringing of his ears he heard the threads of Jack’s shirt pop. 

Jack’s chest swelled, listening to his voice in thick, breathless echoes; palms flat at Jesse’s sides as he submits under the ripples of Jesse’s orgasm and his own beginning to peak. What started as growl worked into a moan, harsh and staggered into Jesse’s shoulder pulling him tight against his chest as the heat flared his skull. Black oozed over his vision as he came, thin pale spates of white streak between their hips; his fingers wet and stained from the other spilling over. 

They gasped in each other’s breaths, eyes flitting nervously between the heat before Jack leaned forward and pulled at Jesse’s lip with his teeth, tongue flicked against the raw sting of skin. Jesse sighed across his mouth, mind clouded by the fog of sex that made his limbs weak under the small throbbing pulses. 

Jack smiled into his lips, pulling him close as he hummed into his skin. 

“I want you to be mine, Jes.”    
  


_ Just mine.  _


End file.
